Chapter Eleven • Wren • Lillith
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Damien’s hand is firm and large as it encompasses my chin, holding me still as his tongue traces the soft, swollen line of my lower lip. I let out yet another soft sigh, careful to keep my feet squarely within the threshold of the front door of the shop.
“Damien, stop playing tonsil hockey and get in the fucking van!” Satoshi says from somewhere behind him.
Damien breaks the kiss, his eyes hooded and warm as he looks down at me like he’s got nowhere to go.
It’s overwhelming, how openly into me he is.
I’m not sure what to do with myself if I’m honest. “You sure I shouldn’t just give up my life as a musician and stay here kissing you all day? ” he asks me.
“Yes,” I sigh, nibbling on my lower lip. “If you don’t keep making music, I’m not going to have anything to listen to while I’m pining over you and the days of yore when I had a torrid affair with a handsome drummer.”
“I can’t say I hate the idea of you pining over me,” he says.
“Well you’re in luck,” I say. “Because—”
I wince as a shrill honk sounds, long and exaggerated and loud.
Damien sighs, his eyes darkening with anger as he looks back over his shoulder. “Would you fuck off, man?” he barks out.
“It’s fine—you should go. You have to get to work,” I say. “But you’re coming back later, right?”
“Right,” he says, his soft regard returning when he smiles down at me.
Of course I hate to say goodbye to Damien.
Spending last night and this morning with him has been the most fun I’ve had in months.
I desperately want to go with him and see what it is my favorite band does behind the scenes.
But I know what awaits me outside the wards carved into the foundations of my family home.
It’s only disaster, and it would destroy me if any of them got hurt because of me.
“You sure you’re alright here on your own? I can wait for you to call a friend so you have someone to help you if you seize,” he says.
“I’m fine, Damien. No auras on the horizon. I’m just going to go upstairs and rest for the day,” I say. “Go get in the van before Satoshi murders us both.”
He groans and leans in to give me one more lingering kiss, this one fast and searing and overwhelming to the point where I almost stumble out the door with him. But as fast as it started, it ends with a kiss on my forehead.
“See you tonight,” he says.
“See you.”
I watch him get into the van and I see him swat Satoshi up the back of the head.
I hear Roxie cackle as they drive off from the curb then watch as the van wobbles and swerves like a battle is taking place inside the vehicle.
I watch it vanish around a corner before promptly racing upstairs to my apartment and grabbing my phone off its charger.
I call up a very familiar number, tapping it on my “favorites” bar in my contacts.
It rings only once before a wry voice comes over the speaker. “Well, look who’s decided I exist again.”
“Mmmmnnnn!!! Wren! I’m sorry okay?” I say.
“Girl, it’s been like ten months since I heard from you. Bastion and I could have a LOVE CHILD right now and you would have NO idea.”
“Okay, firstly, you would never fuck Bastion. It’s my thing to be a stupid glutton for punishment. You would never take that from me.”
“I just think it’s wrong for a man to smell better than me at all times,” she says by way of agreement.
“Secondly, need I point out that you could have called me?”
“Uhhhhm, no, bitch. Don’t even try that. I did. You didn’t call me back.”
“You could have also just kicked down my door,” I say. “You know—with one of the portals that gets you out of The Buried City?”
She’s quiet for a long moment, and I allow the moment to stretch. The truth is, I know why she hasn’t come. It’s the same reason I haven’t left. Nan is gone, and it feels wrong.
“Do you hate me?” she asks, her previous firmness weakening to a bit of a plaintive whine.
“No,” I say, mirroring the tone. “Do you hate me?”
“No, you stupid bitch, I could never hate you. I just—like, it’s so weird to go there with Nan being gone. I swear I keep meaning to, but it gives me a tummyache every time,” she says.
“I know,” I say. “I feel the same way going down there. It just feels strange to go without her. And... I mean I just don’t want people asking me about her yet. I still... I still spring leaks from my eyeballs every time I have to talk about her in anything but abstract terms.”
“I know. I totally get it,” Wren says. “I mean, Nan was just... She was a powerhouse, you know? It’s hard to think of her as someone who could ever be taken out by something as small as pneumonia.”
I nod, though she can’t see it. “Yeah. She was. Tough as nails and just as sharp. But man, could she love as hard and fiercely as she held a grudge.”
“Yeah,” Wren says, and I think I can hear the soft warble of emotion through the phone. After a moment of silence there’s a gust of air into the receiver. “Well. I know you’re calling me about a boy, but that’s all source would give me. Spill, girl.”
Despite the lull into heavy territory, I give a warm laugh. “Of course you had a vision,” I say before sighing. “You see anything about the boy?”
“Not really,” she says. “Just fire. Like twin flame shit, girl. Karmic bond shit.”
“Yeah, well... You know that band I tried to get you into before you told me you didn’t like ‘all the screaming’?”
A pause.
So I continue.
“Remember that Instagram I sent you with all that hand porn?”
There’s another pause but this one is much more pregnant.
I bite onto my lower lip as I can almost feel the way she’s percolating.
Then, like the whistle of a kettle, she suddenly bursts out, “LILLITH. FUCKING. NIGHTINGALE,” she shouts.
“WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU LITTLE SLUT? You know what? No. Never mind. I’m coming over. I want to talk about this in person.”
“Wait,” I say quickly. “There’s something you should know first. It’s the actual reason I called.”
“Oh?” Wren says, her tone shifting a little more concerned. “Lilipad, what happened?”
“Well—Damien and I had a really lovely night last night. Like—one of the dreamiest dates ever. And I’m not going to lie to you, I think I’m catching feelings hard and fast. Well—I don’t know if it’s that or this other thing I did but, the demon who cast the curse confronted me.”
“What? Are you serious? In the flesh?”
“I think so? It’s hard to say. I was somewhere else but he was able to destroy the Nightingale Pearl.”
“Why? I don’t get it. Every other Nightingale has been able to fuck as freely as hell, and it’s not like you haven’t been nursing hopeless on again off again feelings for Bastion since—”
“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” I say.
“I’m just saying. Why now?”
“He didn’t say,” I tell her, then hesitate before continuing. “I have a theory, though.”
“What’s the theory?”
I hesitate again and exhale. “Wren, I had a partial hysterectomy a couple months ago,” I say. “I think he might realize this is his last chance to get his bargain fulfilled since there’s not going to be any more Nightingales.”
“Oh, fuck,” Wren breathes. “Alright. I’ll be there in a bit. I’ll bring books and we’ll...I dunno, we’ll figure all this out.”
“Okay,” I say weakly. “And... Can you not tell Bastion about—”
“About the factory being closed? No worries, girl. I’m the last person who wants to have that conversation with him.”
I grimace, knowing she doesn’t mean to be malicious. But yeesh. “When will you be here?”
“Mmmm, give me about... a half-hour, kay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sounds good.”
After I hang up the phone, a familiar chirrup sounds from the back of the store, where all the metaphysical books and Tarot decks collect dust. I peer over the counter and call out. “Gloamy?”
I yelp as the little charcoal body of my cat suddenly crashes into my display of earrings I keep on the counter. Her pupils take up almost all the space in her green irises, and her ears are pinned down and to the side as her head whips from side to side. She’s going after the greebles. Again.
I laugh and scritch beneath her chin. “Where have you been?” I say. “You missed all the excitement.”